


Daydreams

by NylaLavellan



Category: Original Work
Genre: Demons, F/M, Gen, Mention of Non-Con/Dub-Con, Mention of torture, Unicorns, monster kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 02:57:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11282337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NylaLavellan/pseuds/NylaLavellan
Summary: A demon named Diriel walks into a bookstore run by a unicorn, and wonders about what he'd like to do with or to her.





	Daydreams

**Author's Note:**

> Diriel belongs to a friend of mine. Felicity is my character. Diriel is an asshole but he never actually hurts her or uses and kind of suggestion on her in their history together.

He was a bastard, and he knew it. Diriel was a demon. Even if he was well spoken, and kept his cool in most situations, he was still an asshole. His job was to torture, and prior to this, he'd killed purely because it was fun. Before he ran away from his home. He was still torturing for hire, beings that deserved the pain. Sometimes they died, sometimes they left the room alive. But he didn't pretend to be anything that he wasn't. He was a monster. He may have fought hard to contain himself to an acceptable, more human form in public, so he certainly did look civilized, but he knew he was anything but. And that was fine. He didn't care. He had two friends, somehow. He held down a stable job that let him pay for his house and everything he needed. He didn’t really need anything else than that, did he?

That morning was just an average one. He was taking a walk and decided to stop for coffee. The shop he stopped at wasn’t his favorite. It was pretty mediocre on all counts. Something just pushed him to go there instead of continuing on. Diriel ordered his drink and stepped aside to fix it the way he wanted it. That was where he heard the passing conversation of two men, sitting at a table by the counter. He couldn’t help but listen in.

“That girl happily stocks books on magic. Of course she's unpopular.”

“Can't believe she's even still in business.”

“Well, I'm not fixing her window again. She can do it herself. She loves magic so much, it should be a breeze.”

Now, that had his attention. As a powerful mage himself, anything involving magic tended to. He knew that magic was very, very unpopular. No one used it publicly unless they wanted to be ostracized, or were powerful enough to just make people fear them instead. Anyone stocking tomes had to be very brave. His red eyes shifted to look out of the window towards the small shop across the street, with the hastily patched front window. That had to be what they were talking about. It didn't look like an enchanted place, or even a particularly remarkable place. If he hadn’t heard this specific conversation, he never would have known it was there. Well. It couldn't hurt. He was in no rush. He capped his drink and left the shop, taking careful steps across the street and to the door. He pulled it open and warm air rushed out. Welcoming, at least. Diriel went inside. 

There was a gentle incense smell in the bookstore. It was meant to have a calming effect, he guessed. Not exactly magic, just a casual charm, brewed up by a witch. It was quaint, kind of adorable, especially when he saw who he assumed was the owner. A unicorn. A definite surprise, they were so rare. She was talking quietly by a desk, with a boy of bright pink slime. His color dulled once they took notice of him. He wasn't very surprised. People always handled the aura of a demon poorly. Those made of slime were even more sensitive. When Diriel made eye contact with the unicorn, she didn't flinch at all. She smiled politely at him. Her brown eyes were kind. It didn’t look fake. Diriel turned his head, drawn to the old smell of the books on one shelf. Her spellbooks. He could see that most of her collection was damaged. A shame. He picked up the oldest, but somehow most well kept book. There was the faint sound of a bell behind him. He figured it was her friend leaving, afraid of him. There were some chairs to his right, and he took the book, having a seat and flipping it open.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, reading over the spells in the book. Some he knew, and plenty that he didn't. It stood to make him wonder how the young lady had even managed to get her hands on something like this. He glanced up over the edge of the book, towards the desk. The girl was there, writing in what looked like a ledger. She was pretty. Very, very pretty. Her skin was a pale grey that bordered on white. Small freckles dotted her cheeks. Her hair was such a light purple that it looked white. Only the shine looked purple at all. Her bangs were braided, though she still swept small unruly strands behind one of her pointed ears. The rest was braided, and pulled over her shoulder where it hung down to her chest. Her eyes danced over the page in front of her. 

Pretty. Pure. 

He wondered what she'd look like covered in blood, or screaming in ecstasy under him.

Both conflicting thoughts made the red of his eyes shine briefly. He wasn't sure what idea he preferred more. Such a sweet thing would be so trusting, he was sure. Even trusting someone like him who bled a feeling of negativity from every pore. If he really wanted to do something with her, he could have her see past it. Or even ignore it at all. And with her so occupied, it was easy to imagine either outcome.

Locking the door, walking to her desk and holding her throat. Hearing the air rush out of her and her pulse wildly thrumming under his fingers. Squeezing. Letting his claws sink into her skin, seeing blood flow. What color was unicorn blood? Would it be as pretty as the rest of her was? Or would it just stain that lovely skin crimson like all of the others? That would be a shame, for such a unique creature to be so plain inside. She would cry. They always did. But for this one, he'd make an exception, he'd quiet her cries and soothe her even though he was carving her up. His horns would curl from his forehead, wings spreading out behind him, tail thrashing. Diriel would see the fear in her eyes. He'd enjoy it. He'd keep her teeming in that fear until he was tired of keeping her alive.

But would he rather the alternative? As pretty as her pain could be, her enjoyment might be even more so. He wondered if she'd even ever been with another. Wouldn't it be more thrilling if she hadn't been, and her first could be at the seduction of a demon? He smirked a little when she stood up and went to one of the shelves. She was his type. She was all soft curves and gentle features. The column of her throat looked so inviting.

If he charmed her well enough, and he knew that he could, he could have her up against that bookcase. He'd hold her hips and grind into her from behind, teeth always threatening to break skin but he never would, he’d never put her in danger. He'd take special care of her. She could be his. He could take her back to this chair, strip her and bring her into his lap. For her comfort. He knew he'd be bigger than anything she'd ever taken - or ever would take. But she'd be so nice there, riding him, her braid wound tight around his hand so he could mark her throat and chest as he pleased. He wished he knew her voice so he could put the thought of her moaning with it. And maybe he'd keep her when all was said and done. Like a little bird in a cage all for him.

Damn, it was so difficult to decide. Two actions that would be nothing to him. Diriel closed his eyes, mulling it over silently.

Neither.

He stood up from the chair and approached her. She turned around easily, not a trace of tension in her body. At his height, he towered over her. She smiled up at him, just a little bit, just enough that it turned her lips up slightly and it all really made him wonder if she was just being polite or something else. Enough, he thought. A charming smile crossed his face.

“This is a rare find. What would you be willing to part from it for?” He asked, and even without meaning to, his voice oozed seduction. 

If it had any effect on her, she didn’t show it. Her fingers, soft and small, brushed the back of his hand as she took the book from him. Her brow furrowed as she looked over the cover.

“I've worked so hard to keep this one safe.” She said with a melancholy lilt in her tone. 

It came as a very genuine shock to him when she offered it back to him, and looked up with warmth in her eyes. “Just take it. It's yours.” This baffling unicorn was just handing him this powerful book? He was using no magic of his own. No persuasion. He'd only asked one question. She wanted him to take it. Diriel took it from her hands. 

“Miss...you're certain about this?” He made no effort to hide the disbelief he felt. 

“If it is in the hands of someone who will respect it, and not here where it can be destroyed at any moment, I will be happier. Please take it.” She clasped her hands behind her back.

The more she talked, the more uncertain he felt. As a test, he stopped reigning in that aura that would have people running from him in fear. He always did that, so he could be out in public without people fleeing from him on sight, even if he did exhaust himself doing it. Yet she still stood tall. She still smiled with no effort. She didn't flinch away from him. She didn’t buckle or lose that incredible sparkle in her eyes.

Was it that she really couldn't feel it at all? 

That was the only explanation he could think of, and it was a strangely thrilling feeling. Someone who didn't fear him for existing. Someone he could share a fascination with, without fear of their suspicion. He could afford to get closer to her, if he wanted to. If she allowed him to. She could be something to him. A friend. Something more. Diriel saw her patched window from the corner of his eye. 

“I won't take something so precious with no payment.”

He raised his hand, and a simple cast repaired the glass. He even warded it so nothing like that could happen to it again. His mind was already miles ahead of him, considering everything he could do, everything he wanted to do, just for her. He wanted, for the first time in a very long time, to keep this ideal of a prospective friend close. Diriel turned his head at her soft gasp. Her eyes were lit up and so very warm. Yes. He'd done well.

“Thank you. I was so worried...no one would come again to fix it.” She said. 

He bowed gently at the waist. “It was my pleasure, miss.”

“Felicity.” She replied with her name. 

“Felicity.” It was unfair. Even her name was beautiful. “It won't happen to you again. You won't need to worry about it anymore.” Nor her collection being damaged, or anyone threatening her again. He'd see to that in time. Now, he could see that the sun was starting to set. He'd spent all day here without realizing it. Diriel's smile was more subdued. He smiled with an ease he hadn’t felt towards another in a very long time.

“Thank you for your kindness.” He moved towards the door.

“Thank you for protecting one of my favorite spellbooks.” She replied.

Under the watch of her eyes, a new idea sprang to his mind. He could envision it clear as day, clearer than the selfish, destructive things he'd thought about before. It all unfolded out in front of him. Diriel held his new book close and let himself imagine it as he walked down the street, back for home.

Himself. Sitting on his couch, reading. A small hand on his shoulder, soft lips against his cheek, a cup of tea passed to his hands as he set the book aside. Her, walking around to the other side of the couch, him beckoning for her to come closer. A gentle weight in his lap. The soft feeling of her hair against his fingers, winding in between them. The rasp of the callous of his thumb against her cheek making her shiver and laugh. He'd read to her too. She'd rest there against him. Eventually, he'd put his book down again, hold her proper. No weight in his heart or fear or anger. Just her, anchoring him and keeping him safe from himself, from his sins and all of his wrongs. And he'd whisper her name before he kissed her. “Felicity.” He'd have her, and she'd have him, completely, like no one else ever had.


End file.
